Author Archives: Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior

About Dorothy Max Prior

Dorothy Max Prior is the editor of Total Theatre Magazine, and is also a performer, writer, dramaturg and choreographer/director working in theatre, dance, installation and outdoor arts. Much of her work is sited in public spaces or in venues other than regular theatres. She also writes essays and stories, some of which are published and some of which languish in bottom drawers – and she teaches drama, dance and creative non-fiction writing. www.dorothymaxprior.com

We Are Family – Reykjavík Fringe 2022

Dorothy Max Prior goes to the Reykjavík Fringe 2022 and encounters a thriving community of artists from Iceland, from other Nordic countries, and indeed from across the globe – a 90-show extravaganza held over ten days, all  lovingly pulled together by festival director Nanna Gunnars and her dedicated  team  

‘Mostly, I’m excited to be meeting people,’ says Nanna Gunnars, director of the  Reykjavík Fringe Festival. ‘A lot of the prep is spent on email. I’m behind a screen for hours thinking, why am I doing this? But now it’s coming together, it’s the day  before the opening, and the artists are arriving… And although I’ll be running  around like mad for the next 10 days, I’m going to be meeting so many people from  around the world, and seeing so many great shows.’  

We are sitting having a grilled fish lunch at Skál! in the bustling Hlemmur Matholl, a  former bus station converted into Reykjavík’s latest foodie temple – the ‘we’ being  me, Nanna, and ‘first mate’ Owen Hindley. It is Thursday 23 June, and it is indeed the day before the opening. We are watching the clock as Nanna needs to go across the road to the Galleri Fold to oversee the hang of the comic book art exhibition which will launch on Saturday; and Owen needs to power on with sorting out the technical needs for shows going up in the first day or two. This lunch might be their last proper sit-down meal for a while! 

Andrew Sim: Linda’s Freakshow

Native Icelander Nanna and her English fiancé Owen are part of a four-person core  team running the festival. The other two are festival co-director Olivia Finnegan, a  cheery and enthusiastic US American, who is, amongst other things, responsible for  overseeing the team of up to 60 volunteers staffing the 2022 festival; and head of  technical production Juliette Louste, a striking French woman replete with buzz cut and baby in a Snugli carrier.  

‘We all take on what needs to be done,’ says Nanna, talking of the core team’s shifting roles’. Except Juliette, who stays within her tech remit – she manages the  team of six technicians, and programmes and oversees all the get-ins and technical rehearsals. Owen is her right-hand man, but he also does the graphics and other  things… 

Then, there are the photographers and videographers – and although some are  dedicated to just this work, others are multi-tasking. Take ‘wee Scottish boy’  Andrew Sim, as he is called by his alter-ego Linda, a fabulously fractious old bird who will co-host the opening night party, and whose Freakshow is a returning hit. ‘He’s one of my favourite acts,’ says Nanna of Andrew, going on to comment on his multiple roles within the festival as typical of the sense of community that they have engendered.

‘We are like a family,’ Owen adds. The 2022 festival has plenty of artists who are returning to the festival, from across Europe and North America, and in some cases further afield – although there are many new faces, too.

Ari Eldjárn: Saga Class

Which brings me to ask about highlights of the 2022 programme. Nanna stresses that there is an application and selection process, rather than it all being curated around her taste as festival director, and that the aim is to provide an eclectic mix of work that includes theatre, dance, visual arts, and comedy from across the world –  so I can sense that she is reluctant to prioritise some shows over others, but I do nudge her to name a few she’d particularly like to flag up!  

At the more mainstream end of the programme there is Ari Eldjárn, a stand-up  comedian who is a Netflix star and a household name in Iceland – a coup for the  Reykjavík Fringe that gives them a reach into the wider community, and guaranteed full houses on the nights he performs. 

Somewhere in the middle ground – that is, popular and accessible, but breaking new ground – are shows such as Triptych Men, a three-man dance-theatre-comedy show from Israel that is a companion piece to Triptych Women, which had a successful run at the Edinburgh Fringe a few years ago. Both pieces are choreographed/directed by Sabotal Theatre’s Gal Sabo. ‘It’s essentially the same concept for both,’ says Nanna. ‘A trilogy of performers – either three men or three  women – in competition with each other; telling stories, dancing, vying for the  audience’s attention…’ It’s one that I have marked down as a must-see.  

Sabotal Theater: Triptych Men. Photo Elín Björg –elinbjorg.com

Then, there is Spindrift – an ensemble that developed out of Rose Bruford College’s BA in European Theatre Arts (ETA), formed by a mix of Icelandic and Finnish performers. They are presenting two pieces in the Fringe. Them is an ensemble piece performed by four women that explores gender divides, male self-image, and the ongoing ‘battle of the sexes’ (aka patriarchy and how women deal with it). Their other show, We’ll Dance on the Ash of the Apocalypse, is a climate-crisis drama performed in Icelandic by a real-life couple playing a fictional couple who are deciding whether continuing with an unplanned pregnancy is justified as the world collapses all around them.

Nanna (also an ETA alumnus) is the company’s producer and, speaking of their pre-Fringe premiere of Them the night before at Tjarnarbíó theatre, says ‘I felt a swell of pride. They have been working on this show for six years – six years! – and always wanted to perform it in this venue. To see it with the proper staging and lighting and set design, the full show as it was always envisioned all coming together, and performing to a full house – it was  magic!’  

Spindrift Theatre: Them

Nanna also flags up the inclusion of Líf, a show made in the north of Iceland by theatre group Umskiptingar, saying that it is good to show the world that there is more to the country than Reykjavík:

‘The show is about invented character Sissa Líf, who is an actor-musician and a (failed) former rock star. Basically, the character is a trainwreck and highly delusional about her own talents and capabilities.’

Lif, performed by Margrét Sverrisdóttir, goes on to win her the Best Character Actor Award – one of the very many Awards given out at Reykjavik Fringe!

Margrét Sverrisdóttir as Sissa Lif

At the more cutting edge end of this year’s programme are shows such as After, from Canada: ‘There are five performers and it is for an audience of just five people  at a time,’ says Nanna, ‘and I have no idea how it works… I’m keen to find out.’ 

Then, there is The Road, a multi-disciplinary project that brings together artists from South Africa, France and Sweden through 3D animations, virtual reality (VR) and live theatre. Nanna and Owen have seen the show previously, and are thrilled to be presenting it.  

Which leads neatly to a reflection on the couple’s own work as artists and co-directors of Huldufugl, and how that fits into the picture. VR work is very much part  of their own interests as artists. They aren’t presenting anything in this year’s Reykjavík Fringe, but it was their artistic work that took them through the door in  the first place. Nanna takes up the story:  

‘There was a small team putting together a Fringe in 2017. Owen and I applied with  our company, Huldufugl, to do a VR piece. We got in and thought, this is great. We  don’t have to find a venue or produce it, we present as part of the Fringe. Then, for various reasons to do with co-organisers pulling out and a lack of funding, the  festival didn’t happen. And I was like, oh what a shame – there was such great  potential here. But they said “postponed” not “cancelled”. So I got in touch with the organisers and said, can I be part of the team?’  

To cut a long story short, Nanna met the by-now sole Reykjavík Fringe trailblazer  and she says: ‘He gave me his baby: the concept, a Facebook page, a logo, a website  – and that was it.’ This was spring 2018, and with just a few months to go, she  found herself programming and running the first ever Reykjavík Fringe Festival. In  that first incarnation in 2018, 50 shows were presented.  

For the second one in 2019, there was a luxurious whole year to plan: ‘We  programmed 100 shows – and it was too much. We didn’t have the human capacity  to service the artists properly. But we got a lot of attention!’  

Then, in 2020, along came the pandemic. I presume you didn’t run the festival that  year, I say. But oh yes – they did. ‘We programmed 50 acts, live and online,’ says Nanna. ‘We ran our own TV station,’ adds Owen. By June, many restrictions had  lifted, and as long as gatherings were of no more than 200 people, they could go ahead. So they did.   

The Road

If anything, 2021 was more troublesome as the goalposts kept shifting, right up  until a week or two before the festival opened. ‘We didn’t know what to do – but we  made the call to go ahead and had record numbers of people attending, although  with very few volunteers as no one would commit ahead of time.’ So almost a  normal festival – and they even had people come from abroad. It was the  preparation that was hell, as Nanna recalls: ‘Oh, all the Europeans can come but the  Americans can’t… Oh no, wait, now it’s the Americans who can come but some  Europeans can’t… We ended up saying to artists: we can only update you as we go  along, no guarantees – get a cancellation policy on your flights and we’ll tell you two  weeks before if it’s happening.’ 

There were some shows planned for 2020 and 2021 that couldn’t make it, but they are now on the programme for 2022 – a programme bursting to the seams with good things from across the world. Nanna tells me that the festival has grown greatly over the past five years, and is now an integral part of the Nordic Fringe Network. Many of the shows seen here in Reykjavik will also be presented at other Nordic Fringes, such as those in Bergen, Copenhagen and Gothenburg; and the network has a Young Producers scheme, enabling its directors and producers to  travel around and assist at other festivals in the group.  

I ask Nanna and Owen how they find juggling their roles as artists and producers. They remind me that they are not showing work themselves in this year’s Fringe, as doing both simultaneously is truly difficult – but do concede that running the Fringe takes a lot of planning, and that does impact on their own work. Their company Huldufugl has two shows about to tour internationally – The Hidden People, which was developed in the UK with circus-theatre company Hikapee; and Parallel People, a virtual reality piece for five audience members at a time which grew out of their one-to-one VR work, A Box in the Desert. How they’ll manage to keep all balls in the air remains to be seen!

Huldufugl: Parallel People. Photo Patrik Ontkovic

The next day, Friday 24 June – the official Reykjavík Fringe opening day! It’s another lunchtime meet-up, and we are now at Iðnó cultural centre, a beautiful old theatre building close to the city hall, next to The Pond – Reykjavík’s city-centre haven for ducks and swans. Nanna and Olivia are eating their soup on-the-go, whilst setting up the welcome area for arriving artists. The door out to the wooden deck overlooking the water is open, and the weather is good (you get to really appreciate the days of sunshine in  Iceland – despite having previously visited the country in summertime I had come ill-equipped and had to go out shopping for gloves and scarf).  

Nanna sets up an Artists Speed Dating session, and we all get to have a five-or-ten  minute chat with a number of different people.

I speak to Ester Auður, aka Silver Foxy, who describes herself as ‘the oldest burlesque performer in Iceland’. She tells me all about the burgeoning burlesque scene in Reykjavík, and flags up the group she performs with, The Tutti Frutties. Performer Vice Versa, also in the Tutti Frutties, who I speak to next, confirms that burlesque is indeed a hot ticket at the moment, and tells me that she is running a queer burlesque workshop as part of the Fringe.

Burlesque performer and workshop leader Vice Versa

Musician and theatre-maker Cynthia Shaw tells me about her solo show Velvet  Determination, which weaves live piano playing and autobiographical anecdotes into an exploration of her childhood, coming of age and professional life as a  musician. She tells me that playing the piano is the easy part – talking whilst  playing is what makes the show a tour-de-force! I get to see it a few days later, and  enjoy it greatly – a very well structured and beautifully performed work, with highly  accomplished piano playing. Comedian and musician Nick Jameson, a US American now resident in Reykjavík, seems like a nice chap – we end up talking  about Cynthia’s amazing folding piano (not needed on this trip as the glorious old theatre space at Iðnó has a fine onstage piano), and about his own work as a musician and comedian – and how  both come together in his Fringe show A Crowd of One.

Cynthia Shaw: Velvet Determination

Another conversation is with an enthusiastic young man called Lee Apsey, who is bringing Your Flaws: The  Musical to the Fringe. It’s completely improvised from audience members’ confessions, so it is different every night. Later that evening, at the festival opening party, he teams up with female Icelanders Eldklarar og Eftirsottar (featured image, top of page) in a very funny and entertaining improv in which he speaks only English and the women speak only Icelandic – a fantastic demonstration of the power of physicality, gesture and tone of language, with the added bonus that some audience members spoke only English, and some both languages, granting different perspectives and responses in the room. And as Lee doesn’t speak Icelandic, his attempts to interpret and respond are hilarious. That opening night party also features turns from the aforementioned Vice Versa, resplendently costumed and working the crowd with great aplomb; and a  wonderful Spanish dancer and choreographer called Julia Nicolau, with a beatboxing cum dancing excerpt from her solo show Y Todavia Somos.  

Before the party, we see opening show Hold: The Musical, which introduces the  festival theme of love, being about a relationship between a man and a very sexy  female robot; and which also establishes the strand of musicals and music theatre  that, along with burlesque, is a motif of this year’s Reykjavík Fringe.  

That said, there is a lot more work at the festival that fits neither of these categories.  And although some acts get a slot at the opening party, Sunday night’s Preview event gives us a taster of a lot more.  

Panos Malactos: SADBOI

Of the shows that I won’t be around to see in my flying visit, the ones that I would really have liked to (based on the two-minute excerpts or trailers presented at the preview night) include The Playground, a charming and whimsical dance piece set in kindergarten and public playgrounds (a rare example of outdoor arts in the festival – perhaps the weather is just too erratic, or perhaps it is the age-old dilemma of the lack of box office for outdoor shows that makes them hard to programme into fringe festivals). This goes on to win the Best Children’s Show award. Then there is I Rummet.3, a dance performance and installation piece set in what looks to be a very lovely sculptural construction in an art gallery; two cabaret/ burlesque shows, Búkalú by ‘Iceland’s mother of burlesque’ Margret Maack, and  boylesque star Sadboi, who is ‘gay, sad and horny’; Sindri Sparkle, who has both an exhibition and an autobiographical show called You’re Lucky He Was Nice (which wins the Nordic Fringe Network Award); a dance piece called Birding, which going on the short excerpt seen promised to be  both funny and poignant; and a totally intriguing show called Dead People Are Liking Things on Facebook…  

Ansadans: The Playground

So a lot that will be missed – there are 90 acts or events in total, as festival  directors/presenters of the preview Nanna and Olivia tell us. This is a very  ambitious programme for an organisation run by four unpaid or low-paid people  and a whole host of volunteers.  

But I do get to see a lot in my long weekend at the Reykjavík Fringe, a fabulous  selection of work that includes some of the highlights of the dance and physical theatre programme, such as the aforementioned Triptych Men, which is as brilliant as anticipated, and wins not only the Outstanding Performance award but also the Artists Choice award. The aforementioned Hold: The Musical, Them (winner of Best Ensemble), and Y Todovia Somos are also much enjoyed. (These four shows are covered here.)

I also see a few of the comedy shows, including the highly entertaining Ari Eldjárn with Saga Class (which wins the Audience Choice award). Ari is always funny without ever resorting to cruelty or misogyny. There’s a great film about the Icelandic drag scene, No Make Up, directed by Polish filmmaker Monika Konarzewska, which brings us a genuinely moving portrait of half-a-dozen of Iceland’s top drag artists, male and female and those who prefer not to be pigeonholed by binary divides, including Faye Knus and Gala Noir, filmed onstage and backstage in the clubs, and out on the streets and beaches. A particularly poignant moment is when Mexican artiste Morning Starr performs live in front of his parents for the first time. And there is a very lovely children’s clown show called Clara and the Free Time about the need to slow down and the power of real-life interactions above screen time, which has great audience interaction and plenty of gentle humour.  

No Make Up, a film by Monika Konarzewska

On my final morning, I catch a truly inspiring exhibition by The Arctic Creatures, a trio  embracing a filmmaker, a visual artist and a theatre director (Óskar Jónsson, Hrafnkell Sigurðsson and Stefán Jónsson) who set up fantastic  (and fantastical) photoshoots in the wilds in Iceland, using only natural or found objects in that environment: thus, whatever the ocean washes ashore is transformed into art – colourful plastic, old shoes, bottles, and fishing nets.

My time in Reykjavík passes quickly, but is full of enriching experiences. An eclectic mixture of performance work from around the world seen at the Fringe; many wonderful artists met and engaged with at the various networking events set up, or just post-show at the bar; art exhibitions seen; numerous outdoor swimming trips, to municipal pools and lagoons; excellent soups and breads and smoked fish; coffee with old friends in Reykjavik’s great cafes; and many magical late-night walks home under the midnight sun. There was even a visit to a pagan temple in progress…

As I leave on my early morning flight, I’m thinking of musician-comedian Nick Jameson’s reply when I asked him why he had moved to Reykjavík. I just kept coming back, he said, until it became clear that this was where I needed to stay.

Reykjavík is certainly a city that seems to have that effect on visitors, especially if they are artists. People can’t help but come back. And the vibrant and welcoming Reykjavík Fringe is the ideal occasion for a visit, be it as participant or audience member. Look out for next year’s dates! on the website!

I may well be back…   

The Arctic Creatures

Featured image (top of page): Eldklárar og eftirsóttar

For a round-up of dance & physical theatre shows seen in the opening weekend of Reykjavík Fringe 2022, see companion piece Girls and Boys Come Out to Play.

Reykjavík Fringe Festival

2022 marks the 5th annual Reykjavík Fringe Festival. This year’s edition took place 24 June to 4 July 2022. 

Artistic director Nanna Gunnars founded the Reykjavík Fringe Festival, along with Jessica LoMonaco and Sindri Þór Sigríðarson, in 2018. 

Reykjavik Fringe is the home of the Icelandic grassroots art scene as well as a platform for more established performers to experiment and play. Festival artists are a mix of local and international performers. The festival takes place at the height of summer, making the most of the long days and the midnight sun. Venues are all in central Reykjavík, a close walking distance from one another. Tickets are affordable and the atmosphere is always welcoming.  

Nordic Fringe Network

The Nordic Fringe Network (NFN) is a collaboration of several Fringe festivals in the Nordic countries. The network was launched in 2017 and currently includes Fringe festivals in Finland, Iceland, Lithuania, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.

NFN offers artists the chance to tour their shows between the Nordic countries, through one joined open call. It also offers Fringe organisers a chance to exchange ideas and learn from one another through regular meet-ups. Nordic Fringe organisers try their best to attend each other’s festivals, and act as jury members during their stay. This also means that artists get a great opportunity to network with foreign festival organisers and industry professionals at each festival. NFN also serves as a support system for other organisations wanting to establish Fringe festivals in their regions. 

Rose Bruford European Theatre Arts

The European Theatre Arts (ETA) BA (Hons) course explores different European theatre practices, centred on the notions of the ensemble and of crossing borders; training students in the processes of theatre-making (as performer, director, deviser, designer) alongside an understanding of how performance is shaped by its cultural contexts.

Dorothy Max Prior travelled to Reykjavik with support from Inspired by Iceland, brokered by Reykjavik Fringe Festival. She stayed at Local 101, central Reykjavic.

The Vibrating Body

A golden humanoid lion, an overcoat made of herrings, and drawing noses. Dorothy Max Prior profiles the work of visual and performing artist Jenya Stashkov

 Russian artist Jenya Stashkov is many things – a renaissance man, you could say. He is a visual artist and illustrator; but also a playwright, performer and director..

With his wife Elena Stashkova (aka Ionova) he creates surreal performances.

Their current main project is the Vibrating Body performance troupe, an ‘independent theatre troupe with a non-permanent cast’. Each project they create is unique and has ‘literary, theatrical, artistic and musical components’.

Jenya describes their activities as ‘[exploring] mysticism, the joy of creativity, archetypes, dreams, the paranormal’. A belief in pacifism is key to their work. ‘We condemn Russia’s military intervention in Ukraine,’ says Jenya. He and Elena are hoping to emigrate from Russia at some point in the near future.

On process, Jenya says they are ‘working with modern, mystical and avant-garde dramaturgy’. They work both on stage and on the street. The ephemeral nature of performance appeals strongly. In an interview for Round Lemon, Jenya says:

‘The Vibrating Body is engaged in performances in the urban environment, theatrical performances, video poetry and various cultural projects. Our performances are usually held only once. We like to compare them with the practice of drawing mandalas by Tibetan monks, who spread images of coloured sand for a long time, and then immediately destroy them.’

Dream About the Forest Ashes performance (dedicated to Anton Adasinsky) 2017, St. Petersburg, Tavrichesky Garden

Theatre work has included Plays Without Words and Action, created in Moscow in 2019 and performed at Praktika Theatre. The work is based on a play by Juno Hoay-Fern from Malaysia. This was followed, in 2021, by the creation of I Feel a Dream, created with Vladivostok, Primorsky Youth Theatre, and based on a number of short plays by contemporary mystical Russian playwrights.

The company’s street performances and performance actions in public spaces have included Pilgrimage Of Water (2017, Saint Petersburg), and Hatching (2017, Nizhny Tagil).

There is often a surrealist aspect to the work. Pilgrimage Of Water, for example, is a processional performance ‘dedicated to the embodiment of architectural archetypes, filling the missing water in the Fontanka River and walking a golden humanoid lion in the company of two plaster maidens’.

Unparted Shoot, performance (2016, Ekaterinburg, Youth Library

Jenya has also been implementing the Independent International Award for Improper Dramaturgy project for four years. In 2021, he was awarded the Neem ‘Turquoise edition’. The Neem award was created to support and identify ‘underground dramatic currents’. The Vibrating Body were awarded a prize in the category ‘a play that no one will ever agree to stage’ – which seems a pretty intriguing concept. Here’s a taster:

‘A man dressed in an overcoat of herrings appears on stage, lit by the backlights of ten million first generation iPhones. He sees two thousand Russian Roubles on the floor. “Oh,” he cries, using an Old English accent of Wessex dialect, “that’s equivalent to over twenty British pounds”. The paper money changes as we watch, from Roubles to Malay Ringatas. The herrings chant Handel’s Messiah in reverse, and then explode. The man is discovered to be a drunken Chihuahua. Curtain.’

In an interview for Round Lemon, Jenya was asked about the ease with which he crosses boundaries of artform. Ultimately, it would seem that it all comes down to the fact that it is the ideas that are paramount: the form then presents itself.

‘As a mystical artist, I’m generally interested in the process of embodying weightless invisible ideas. Ideas always lose their purity when they are embodied in our earthly world. Different types of art allow us to experience these losses in different ways – different media, different types of communication of the final result with the audience, different temporal processes. Psychologically, it’s easiest for me to do illustration and graphic work.’

‘Words Over the Mountains, performance based on poems by contemporary Ural poets (2016, Nizhny Tagil, ‘Egg’ art space

When asked where he takes his inspiration from, this is his answer:

‘I get a huge boost of inspiration from the realisation that inspiration comes on a schedule that is beyond human logic. I like to imagine creative energy (inspiration) as a person with whom I need to build personal relationships, like with relatives, a wife, children, or bosses. We can’t spend 24/7 with someone, not even with the person who we’d consider as closest to us. Therefore, I train myself to give inspiration a rest from me. This is my way of getting inspiration.

Jenya is also a talented illustrator: ‘I love flowing shapes, ornaments, noses, references to Sumerian culture and acid colours in particular,’ he says.

His maxim is ‘Only create what brings you joy’.

Like all true surrealists, for Jenya playfulness is paramount. And art for art’s sake is the name of the game:

‘Everyone who makes any steps in art is blessed. Spirits and gods support them (in non-obvious ways).’

Here’s wishing Jenya Stashkov and Elena Stashkova and their company The Vibrating Body much future success, be that within or beyond Mother Russia.

May the spirits and gods support them in whatever way they can. Blessed be!

Featured image (top): Plays Without Words and Action (2019, Moscow, Praktika theatre), performance by Vibrating Body based on a play by Juno Hoay-Fern (Malaysia).

Mermaids of White Earth, performance (2018, St. Petersburg, POLE festival)

More about Jenya Stashkov’s work:

Vibrating Body website:

https://vibratingbody.jimdofree.com/

For the cited Round Lemon interview, see https://www.roundlemon.co.uk/zest-archive/jenya-stashkov-interview

Theatre Work

PLAYS WITHOUT WORDS & ACTION (ENG) (2019, Moscow, Praktika theatre), performance based on a play by Juno Hoay-Fern (Malaysia)

I feel a dream (RUS) (2021, Vladivostok, Primorsky Youth Theater), performance based on short plays by Contemporary mystical russian playwrights

Street Performances

Pilgrimage of Water (2017, Saint Petersburg)

Hatching (2017, Nizhny Tagil)

The Hidden People

The Hidden People is a co-production between British circus theatre company Hikapee and Icelandic theatre company Huldufugl (Hidden Bird). The show combines Icelandic folklore, aerial circus and physical performance, and creative technology.

Here, three different voices offer their individual perspective on the UK premiere of the show, which took place at the Pavilion Theatre Worthing.

Dorothy Max Prior, reporting for Total Theatre Magazine, writes:

Greys, blues, greens – a typical Icelandic landscape of hills and glaciers and rocky outposts. At first, we seem to be looking at a painting that covers the entire back wall; but as the show starts and the landscape shifts and moves, we realise it is a projection – and that the upstage area is made up of a climbing wall construction, which forms the ‘screen’ on to which the cleverly shifting moving images play out.

Throughout the next couple of hours, we are taken to many different outdoor environments – a rolling panorama of verdant summertime hills, black volcanic lava, icy fjords and gorges, flowing waterfalls – and to the hidden nooks in the mountains where The Hidden Peoplelive, often cleverly camouflaged within the landscape/set. More on them anon! The lighting design works with the projection, giving us a visually stunning rollercoaster of images. It could almost be a tourist board advert for the wonders of Iceland.

Within this stimulating environment – created by visual designer / moving image maker Owen Hindley, with a team of lighting, set and costume designers and makers on board – an ensemble of eight performers, drawn from the two collaborating companies, bring us an almost word-free and highly physical tale of difficult decisions around productivity versus preservation, environmental action, and respect for nature. 

The Hidden People is the story of two sisters, Rósa and Tinna. They are, at one and the same moment, representations of real people and personifications of the show’s key elements: scientific progress and natural world conservation. Rósa has left Iceland to become an architect and engineer. Her sister Tinna remains behind in the Icelandic countryside, dedicated to the natural world, and respectful of the huldufolk, Icelandic’s hidden people – who are sometimes seen as a kind of elf or fairy, and oft described as like humans but more evolved. They can be seen only if they want to be.

Let me step out of this story for a moment to tell you another story. On a trip to Iceland twelve years ago, I was having dinner with my dear friend Einar, and he was telling me about some problems with the building of his new house. Diggers and other tools and machines kept breaking down. ‘We had to move the road to keep the elves happy,’ said Einar. I laugh – but see that this is no joke, Einar is deadly serious. ‘No really, you must respect the wishes of the huldufolk.’ This is not the only story I’ve heard subsequently about road and house building and other construction plans coming a cropper if respect is not paid.

Back to the show: Rósa has returned to Iceland full of enthusiasm for her latest project, the construction of a large hydroelectric dam. This will disrupt the landscape and local fauna and flora, but on the other hand will provide a significant amount of green energy.

There’s a very lovely scene in which the graphs and blueprints and calculations of Rosa’s plans play out in a shifting medley of projected images whilst she sits to the side of the stage at her desk, eventually arising to interact with the projected imagery, twisting and turning and tumbling as she calculates her way forward.

The Hidden People premiere at The Pavilion Theatre Worthing, 12 March 2022. Photo by Robin Boot Photography

The story evolves in scenes in which the human intellectual and emotional dilemmas – mostly explored through the tussle between the two sisters – are contrasted with the huldufolk’s gently detached relationship with nature as they move organically amongst the rocks and hills, often blending seamlessly into the landscape. That aforementioned back wall structure proves to be an excellent piece of staging/set that can be climbed up, hung from, or abseiled down on bungees.  

The show’s writers – Bryony Livesey-Casey (who also directs) and Edd Livesey-Casey from Hikapee (who also performs in the ensemble), and Nanna Gunnars (who performs as Tinna) and Owen Hindley of Huldufugl – have found a nifty way to differentiate the two worlds when the same ensemble cast play everyone and everything: When we are with the humans, it is classic European ensemble physical theatre work that carries us forward (three of the four co-creators are Rose Bruford European and American Theatre Arts  graduates), combined with floor-based acro and hand-to-hand; and the aerial equipment comes out when we are in the world of the Hidden People.

A camping-in-the-hills scene, in which the humans pitch tents and do all the things people normally do in tents (I’ll leave this to your imagination), gives the opportunity for some nice shadow theatre work – although this scene does feel a little long; and indeed the show as a whole could do with some trimming. But this is its very first outing in public, so that is to be expected.

There is some very elegant and effective dance-mime work from Sophie Northmore as Rósa, and a great scene in which Charlotte Greenstock performs a powerful solo aerial straps routine as ‘Rósa’s dream self’. The story reaches its apex with a stunning scene set in and around the waterfall – a culminating point where all the best elements of the show come together as the skilful aerial silks work is highlighted by Owen Hindley’s stunning projection. Throughout, this almost word-free piece is glued together by composer Iris Thorarins’ moody and dreamy soundscape.

The ending is ambivalent – but this I like, as it leaves space for the audience to be part of the creative process, as they muse on which reality they wish to believe in…  perhaps opting for both simultaneously.

Nanna Gunnars (left) and Sophie Northmore in The Hidden People at The Pavilion Theatre, Worthing.
Photo by Robin Boot Photography

Nanna Gunnars from Huldufugl, co-producer and performer in The Hidden People, writes:

Huldufugl fuses physical theatre with creative technology and Hikapee focus on narrative-driven circus performances. Going into this collaboration we knew we wanted to tell a narrative story using circus techniques and be non-verbal in order to reach an international audience. The few words that are spoken are the given names of the characters, all in Icelandic. The initial inspiration came from folklore stories of the Icelandic hidden people – we wanted to explore how we could show something on stage that should essentially be hidden, helped along with an innovative combination of projection, lights and shadow. We wanted to make bodies on stage blend into the background or use them as a part of the landscape, representing the movement of the earth, from rolling rocks to splashing water, using projections to do so. I have a background in physical theatre but the other half of Huldufugl, Owen Hindley, has experience with real-time digital animation and designed the landscape projections, with inspiration from one of Iceland’s most famous painters, Jóhannes Kjarval.

Our approach to making The Hidden People was mainly twofold. We explored a variety of images and ideas that we wanted to create on stage, and separately discussed what kind of a story we wanted to tell. As a part of the image work we created several tableaux from key words, finding combinations that we found striking. Some of the early keywords we worked with were ‘water’ and ‘waterfall’, as Iceland has an abundance of both: we had this idea of our main character being swept away by an onslaught of water. We dove into aerial movement that could indicate falling water, rapids, turbulence, calm, strong currents, whirlpools and drowning. These are some of my favourite moments from the show. I’m the only performer in the show that’s not a circus professional, but I truly enjoy being a part of the ensemble when we embody a violent river that engulfs the lead character, through physical theatre and hand-to-hand acro sequences. Through this collaboration with Hikapee I’ve also learned a lot about circus techniques and how different types of aerial equipment influence the quality of movement. For example, we chose to use aerial silks to signify a beautiful, cascading waterfall, where the performers use a variety of roll-ups and roll-downs to portray the torrents of the water in a graceful manner. For a drowning sequence, on the other hand, we went for aerial straps. Our straps performer, Charlotte Greenstock, was able to perform slow, sinking movements mixed with more violent and thrashing movements between gasping for air.

We also knew we wanted to modernise the hidden people. The idea to reserve aerial equipment only for the hidden people came early, but we also looked at what kind of physicality we could give them. Historically they have been seen as largely like humans but more advanced, resulting in being more skilful, attractive and living in closer harmony with nature – humans 50 years into the future. We didn’t want to give them an overpowering otherworldly quality of movement nor deprive them of individuality, but still portray a different feel from our human characters. We connect the two worlds together by having the hidden people use aerial equipment to swing and glide elegantly across the stage, and the human characters also traversing the stage in midair, albeit using bulkier climbing equipment, harnesses and carabiners, with this equipment on full display.

One of the major characteristics of the hidden people is that they’re seen as one with nature, and in a way, the protectors of nature. Considering how concerned humans are today about climate change and global warming, whilst simultaneously distracted by excessive screen time, we imagined that a few decades down the line people might be more grounded, and better connected with nature and their surroundings.

Water was already a recurrent theme in the story, and we decided on a story about the building of a new hydroelectric dam in Iceland. Even though, for the rest of the world, hydroelectric dams may only seem to be positive as they produce green energy, they are a highly controversial topic in Iceland. There are both positives and negatives, and we didn’t want to dictate what the audience should think but give an ending that can be interpreted in both a realistic negative way, or a more fantastical positive way.

As the only Icelandic performer in the show, I found it important that the whole group would have a sense of how the hidden people are regarded and portrayed in Icelandic society. It was especially important to me not to make a clichéd performance and steer clear of tropes around them, such as making them cute or quirky. I also insisted on involving an Icelandic composer, Iris Thorarins, to get a true Icelandic sound for the performance. I found it very interesting and somewhat challenging to stage Icelandic identity in a production that’s predominantly British. All in all I think we succeeded in creating characters that would fit well into Icelandic society and make a modern version of the often-dated hidden people, I might just add on a masterclass in Icelandic language pronunciation before the next show!

Charlotte Greenstock performing in The Hidden People at The Pavilion Theatre Worthing. Photo by Robin Boot Photography

Aerialist and ensemble performer Charlotte Greenstock writes:

I am a circus performer specialising in aerial straps (two long straps with wrist loops on the end). Hanging from the straps, I use a combination of strength and momentum from spinning to create dynamic sequences.

My roles within The Hidden People were to embody the architect Rósa’s nightmare, to work as part of the ensemble, and to cause mischief as one of the hidden people.

Creatively, developing the nightmare scene (playing lead character Rósa’s dream self) was a really interesting experience, as lots of different elements and many people were involved to pull the scene together. I worked closely with Edd Livesey-Casey (my counterweight) to utilise the counterweight system fully and take up as much space as possible. Alongside this, Owen adapted the projections to work with my movements to create a drowning effect. 

Even  though I appear to be alone on stage at this point, I’m not – aerial straps often involves working closely with another person. Edd had to know my movements and cues exactly, in order to lift me at the right time and lower me safely. This scene in particular was a challenge. It was difficult to create the frantic effect desired, as I often didn’t land on my feet, or would land and continue moving around the space. Edd was an intuitive counterweight, and I am incredibly pleased with the piece we created together. 

During this nightmare scene, I felt very connected to the cast. At the start, I’m carried on and gently placed on the floor by another member of the cast, then Edd lifts me slowly to begin the scene. We work together, and at the end I am carried away again. Being held at the start and at the end was an emotional experience which helped me to connect with the helpless state my character was in.  

Alongside my ‘nightmare’ role, I am also an ensemble performer in the show and portray one of the hidden people. I knew little about Icelandic folklore before this experience, so it’s been really interesting to immerse myself  in something completely new. 

Throughout the creation period, we were each encouraged to find and connect with our ‘hidden person’ character. We played and explored in various ways until each person’s individual character started to emerge. Different parts of ourselves were exaggerated through our hidden people. I ended up high energy and mischievous, Katie (Hardwick) graceful and serene, Lawrence (Swaddle) cheeky, Edd provocative etc. We had a lot of fun discovering these versions of ourselves and took time to play with who we thought our characters could be. For me, this involved a lot of running around and chasing people!

For some reason, I don’t usually get nervous when I perform. Although in this case, there were lots of moving parts to bring this show together, and missing my cues could have a knock-on effect for a lot of people. So I definitely had some nerves as the performance began! Fortunately, as a cast, we fell into a familiar rhythm, and feeling it all come to fruition was very satisfying. I’m going to miss this crew and this creation, but hopefully we will all be reunited next year to play as hidden people again…

Featured image (top) and all above images: Hikapee Circus Theatre and Huldufugl: The Hidden People. Photos by Robin Boot Photography.

The Hidden People is a co-production between British circus theatre company Hikapee and Icelandic theatre company Huldufugl (Hidden Bird).

The Hidden People premiered at Pavilion Theatre, Worthing on 12 March 2022, and will be touring 2022–2023.

For Hikapee Circus Theatre see: http://www.hikapeetheatre.com/ 

For Huldufugl see http://www.huldufugl.is/

More about creating The Hidden People and the issues inspiring the show:

On the issue of hydraulic dams: Iceland is the world’s largest electricity producer per capita, with approximately 55,000 kWh per person per year. There is an abundance of natural energy to be had in Iceland, and plans for several more dams currently exist. If they go through, they will create hundreds of jobs in rural areas. However each dam has an enormous effect on wildlife habitat, not to mention the extreme change in the landscape. Icelanders pride themselves on their unspoilt nature, which in turn draws in large numbers of tourists every year. However, Iceland is also the largest green energy provider per capita, and the country’s total electricity consumption is almost 100% renewable. So the issues are complex.

The Hidden People was supported and developed in partnership with a number of UK organisations. The final creation period took place from January-March 2022, at Out There Arts (Great Yarmouth), The Point (Eastleigh) and Pavilion Theatre (Worthing).

The show are grateful to have received funding from Arts Council England, Nordic Culture Point, Nordic Culture Fund, The Finnish Institute in UK and Ireland, The Icelandic Embassy in London, and RUV & Stef Composer Fund. Additionally, the show received support from Jacksons Lane Theatre, 101 Outdoor Arts and Iðnó during the rehearsal process. 

The show’s makers would also like to thank Terry Gunnell, a professor and world authority on Icelandic folklore, who was interviewed in the early stages.

Vision On – LIMF 2022 Round-Up

 A clown locked down in a beautiful Mexican house, Pinocchio swallowed by a whale, battling Action Man dolls, and a live magic lantern show about space and time… Dorothy Max Prior encounters a visual feast at LIMF 2022 

The London International Mime Festival, which runs annually through January into early February, is a highlight of the year for any of us with an interest in physical and visual theatre, circus and puppetry – all of which are always well represented. 

After a wholly online edition in 2021, LIMF 2022 was back ‘large and live’ with a programme that, due to the wickedly disruptive double-whammy of Covid and Brexit, favoured UK-based artists boasting many different skill-sets  – and indeed nationalities, for the UK physical theatre and circus world  is a truly international one.

The live programme included high-profile names like Gandini Juggling, Barely Methodical Troupe, and Vanishing Point, together with rising stars Thick & Tight, Theatre Re and Sadiq Ali. There was also an appearance by LIMF favourites Cie 111 from France, who presented aSH, the final in Aurelien Bory’s trilogy for renowned female dancers – in this case, Shantala Shivalingappa. 

Normally, I’d be racing out of my Brighton house and braving the eccentricities of the Southern Rail network at least three times a week to catch shows – and after the 2021 online edition, was really looking forward to LIMF 2022. Sadly, I found myself grounded by Covid, and thus had to miss most of the live programme. But I found consolation in the commissioned film programme and other online events… 

Despite the admirable return to live programming – beating the Omicron odds to somehow get everything up and running, with only a few glitches along the way – online content remained a key part of the LIMF 2022 programme, which included a number of commissioned ‘performance to camera’ works. Given the problems of bringing in work from overseas, directors Joseph Seelig and Helen Lannaghan reasoned they could preserve the international element of the Festival through these film commissions, which this year all went to overseas artists.

The commissioned artists, people whose work they knew and liked, were given a completely free rein to create a short film that isn’t driven by spoken text. The five were: Dewey Dell (Italy), an offshoot of the legendary Castelluci company; Hiroaki Umeda (Japan), a Tokyo-based choreographer, photographer and video artist creating mesmerising visual environments for his visceral live performances; Delgado Fuchs (Switzerland) whose body-based work involves dance, performance, installation, photography, video, fashion and fine arts; Gabriela Muñoz from Mexico, a clown best known for her portrayal of a woman desperate for companionship and marriage in Perhaps, Perhaps, Quizas, seen at LIMF 2018; and Patrick Sims (France/USA), the founder and former creative director of renegade puppetry company Buchinger’s Boot Marionettes, moving on to create his current company Les Antliaclastes, who have been seen at LIMF numerous times. 

Gabriela Muñoz: PLANT

I enjoyed all five short films, but the two that interested me most were those by Gabriela Muñoz and Patrick Sims.

Gabriela Muñoz’ PLANT presents a Groundhog Day scenario as the life of a woman unfolds from morning to evening over and over in endless locked-down repetition.

The film is performed and shot in the Casa Organica – a retro futuristic fantasy home designed by Javier Senosiain. There are no straight lines or edges: the walls are curved and windows are either large amoeba shapes or small circular port-holes. Inside, the living spaces are womb-like interior caves. The house’s fixtures, fittings and furnishings are lingered over lovingly by the camer and include white formica kidney-shaped tables a gold chair shaped like a hand, a pineapple sculpture, and bowls of big brightly coloured metallic balls. Essentially, the house plays the starring role.

For its occupant, Chula the Clown, each day is the same: a bath-time scrub down with a loofah (wearing a hilarious nude costume), getting dressed in a pink puffa tunic with lurid pussy-bow scarf, a quick inspection in the full-length mirror, and breakfast eggs (shaken to see if they are live!). Outside in the garden, we’re in Teletubbies country as our heroine romps around on ferociously landscaped grass hills, slides gleefully down a big slide, and cradles a toy bird in her hand. Back indoors, her afternoon pastime is completing a blank jigsaw. Her evenings alone see her swigging from a wine bottle, dancing a whirling dervish dance round her room, and collapsing in a heap on the sofa.

The Groundhog Day repetition is given to us with the accompaniment of  cheesy toy-town tune that speeds up as each day goes by. Then, a change. One morning our clown wakes and there is no musical accompaniment to her life, just the sound of her own sighs. A new soundtrack starts up: a discordant electronic whine and click giving way to a melancholic symphony. Everything is the same, but everything is different. Nothing is quite right. Breakfast, garden, little bird, jigsaw – all spoilt. Things go from bad to worse, until the arrival in the garden of a Deus Ex Machina brings resolution…

The film feels complete, working well as a short. It is skilfully shot and directed by Guillermo Llama Altamirano, Gabriela Muñoz as Chula the Clown is a beautifully melancholic persona, and Andrés Landon’s soundtrack does exactly what is needed in a non-verbal film, driving the narrative and providing the mood and tone for each scene.    

Patrick Sims

The Ribs and Terror by Patrick Sims is also about containment and boredom, and the fear of change (post-pandemic, this is hardly surprising!). In this case, we have an imprisonment within an imprisonment. The first character we meet is a (puppet) whale, sitting on the toilet in a decrepit old bathroom, striking the days off on a calendar. It opens its jaws to yawn, and we cut to inside its ribcage where we come across imprisoned puppet number two – a beautifully-crafted marionette with a long nose, a dunce’s cap, terrifyingly real eyes, and furry donkey ears. Like Gaby Muñoz’ clown, this little creature, trapped in its environment, is both bored and easily amused by childlike pursuits of sliding and tumbling and playing with objects in their environment. An oyster shell reveals a pearl as big as the creature’s head, the shell then becoming a makeshift bed…

The Ribs and Terror is described by Sims as ‘a tale of Pinocchio inside the whale. Pinocchio does not want to become a real boy, he likes it where he is and does not want to leave. This resistance causes much belly-ache for the whale. The concept of the “Jonah syndrome” permeates the story – that is, when an individual is less afraid to die than to live to his fullest potential’.

The piece references not only Carlos Collodi’s Pinocchio and the biblical tale of Jonah and the Whale, but also Three Men in a Tub and Herman Melvilles’ Moby-Dick – Captain Ahab makes an appearance – and he’s not the only one to lose a leg to a whale! 

The video was inspired by themes developed during the making of a live theatre production, Ambergris, which features many of the same characters and sets, and Sims acknowledges the influence and inspiration of both Georges Meliés and Jan Svankmayer (it is Svankmayer who is the most obvious inspiration here). 

The soundtrack to the film – a pre-existing piece called ‘Lullaby for a Sinking Submarine’ by longtime Sims collaborator Ergo Phizmiz – drives the action and provides the frame for the separate scenes.

There’s a whole host of extraordinary images here – and as we’d expect from this master of surreal puppetry, wonderful design and making throughout. But to be brutally honest, beautiful though the visual imagery is, it feels like what it is: an adjunct to another, bigger project. At more than 16 minutes, it is too long for the short film brief, and feels like it is desperately seeking a film director to pull it into shape, if it is to exist as a film short. 

As a word-free film the soundtrack is all important – and Ergo Phizmiz’ mulch of tipsy sea-shanties, accordion drones, music boxes, violins and foley sound is perfect.

Opposable Thumb: Big Boys Don’t Cry

I did manage to get to two live shows: one about masculinity that featured sparring Action Man dolls, Luche Libre wrestlers, cadavers, crisps and a war on tupperware; and the other a visually stunning created-live-before-our-eyes animated film about time and space that features a love story that unfolds as a balancing act between art and science.

Opposable Thumb followed up their fabulous Coulrophobia with another two-man show, Big Boys Don’t Cry, presented at Jacksons Lane, in which company co-founders/performers Adam and Dik take us into the beating heart of the modern male and attempt to answer the burning question: what maketh a man? Nature or nurture? Mind or body? Cheese ‘n’ Onion or Prawn Cocktail?

The show is structured as a classic three-act play – although that nod to traditional form is where it ends. The first two acts focus on autobiographical material of each of the men in turn, and the third is the denouement or showdown. Each act is supplemented by intervals of film projection, with family photos and shaky super-8 and video clips showing us our heroes as tiny tots. 

Act 1 focuses on The Puppet Master – the alter-ego of Dik Downey, who has mortality on his mind. An Action Man tabletop fight is an amusing commentary on the lure of war games to young males, and Downey’s expertise as a puppeteer is evident in the skilled manipulation. We move into a reflection on the death of the performer’s father, as a spookily realistic mannequin of a cadaver is wheeled on for a surreal post-mortem in which red balloons and flowers erupt from the corpse. Overlooking the cadaver is a reproduction of Rembrandt’s ‘The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp’. The art masters motif continues with a Leonardo da Vinci puppet astride a toy helicopter (da Vinci having invented a prototype helicopter, allegedly) and a shaggy dog Mona Lisa story…

Act 2 belongs to The Bear – Adam Blake. The main theme in this act is male anger. There’s a magnificent battle with tupperware boxes and their ill-fitting lids, in which both men use their very able skills as clowns to push the frustration to a ludicrously intense level. An audience member, Ben, is embroiled in an attempt to ‘turn anger into a game’. Ben is angry because, although he deliberately booked seats near the back so he wouldn’t get picked on, he ended up at the front. Ben learns how to be an angry cat. 

Act 3 gives us a Mexican wrestling contest, with our combatants dressed in fabulously excessive crisp-packet inspired costumes: Prawn Cocktail v Cheese and Onion. Following a round of foolish falling about and clasping of bodies, we are treated to a bout of slapstick confessions. As the slaps ring out, we hear of our two combatants fears, failures and regrets as they work through the lifetime struggle of ‘being a man’: one hates his fat legs, the other hates football. One has an under-developed penis, a child with Down’s Syndrome, and a wife better than him at DIY; the other didn’t say goodbye to his dying dad. 

Although less immediate than Caulrophobia, and with some inevitable ‘new show’ wobbles in pacing here and there, Big Boys Don’t Cry is a great addition to the company’s repertoire, and with a bit of mucking-in over the coming year will, I’m sure, be up there with that seminal first show. It’s a great example of clowning and physical theatre tackling the big subjects in life and winning. Ding ding! 

Stereoptik: Stellaire:

Over at the Barbican Pit, French company Stereoptik (Romain Bermond and Jean-Baptiste Maillet), were back with their latest handmade spectacle, Stellaire, a love story unfolding through space and time, set in a magic-lantern world, using a fabulous variety of media – paper, chalk, charcoal, sand, water, silhouette theatre and projection – to create a wondrous cartoon-theatre created live before the audience’s eyes. The two artists work together on the visuals, whilst also providing a live soundtrack using synthesisers and acoustic instruments (including a drum kit). It is hard to believe that all this is done by just two people! I love the blend of hi-tech and lo-tech, as parks and people, spacecraft and galaxies emerge as if by by magic on the screen, then dissolve to make way for the next beautiful image. 

In an interview with the creators reproduced in the LIMF programme, Bermond says ’Stellaire ties a love story together with the creation of the universe. Both phenomena embody expansion and movement. When two people meet and live a love story, there’s a form of expansion – the birth of children, or the family history they become part of’. This is a love story that evolves between a male artist (a cartoonist) and a female scientist (an astronomer), in a way representing the marriage of art and science in this story of space and the stars. There are times when the whole thing becomes a little bit too ‘educational’ for my taste – for example, we are given the female astronomer’s lectures at a conference on time and space, which feels a little clunky. But this is a small complaint – it doesn’t detract from the beauty and wonder of the work. A truly visual theatre.

Feautured image (top): Oposable Thumb: Big Boys Don’t Cry.

London International Mime Festival ran 12 January to 6 February 2022.

For further information on these and other shows, films and events presented at LIMF 2022, see www.mimelondon.com 

We Travel in Hope: LIMF 2022

After a wholly online edition in 2021, the London International Mime Festival 2022 is back ‘large and live’. Dorothy Max Prior talks to the Festival’s co-directors, Joseph Seelig and Helen Lannaghan

It’s the week before Christmas, and there’s talk – once again – of possible lockdowns to slow the spread of Covid-19, perhaps pre- but more likely post-Christmas. There’s speculation, as new variant Omicron tears through the country, that theatres and other venues may once again be closed. Those putting on shows over the winter holiday season are biting their nails to the quick, hoping they can get through the run. Can we really still be in this situation after a calamitous 18 months of dashed hopes and lost revenue?

Meanwhile, the directors of the London International Mime Festival, Joseph Seelig and Helen Lannaghan, are sitting tight. LIMF 2022 opens on 12 January. After going online for the 2021 edition, the festival is back ‘large and live’ in 2022, featuring 14 productions, and putting British work centre-stage. At least, that’s the plan.

‘We travel in hope,’ says Helen when I speak to them (on Zoom, inevitably). Helen and Joseph are both quietly optimistic that things will work out, but take the philosophical stance that ‘what will be, will be’. 

So, just how did they go about programming a live festival in the current climate? This can’t have been easy in these uncertain times! 

Helen takes us back to the height of the first wave of the pandemic, in 2020:

‘When it become obvious we couldn’t plan a live festival for 2021 and had to go digital, we decided to commission work from a number of British artists for the 2022 edition,’ she says. ‘It was clear, back then, that things weren’t just suddenly going to ping back to normal and be fine for 2022…’ 

Even before the onset of the pandemic, planning anything international had become something of a nightmare due to Brexit and the subsequent difficulties with visas, tax, carnets…  Hindered not helped by what Helen refers to as ‘our retro-fit government’. 

‘So little was in place, just weeks before Brexit,’ she says, ‘nobody was thinking ahead, nobody seemed to value culture’.

Then with the pandemic on top came further difficulties with international travel – the high cost of freight, the rising cost of hotels and air travel, not to mention closed borders and constantly changing quarantine rules. Thus, Joseph and Helen took the sound forward-looking decision that for the 2022 edition, they would need to plan for a largely British festival.

‘So, all in all, we cut our cloth according to our means,’ says Helen.

‘We didn’t cut off our nose to spite our face!’ adds Joseph with his customary humour.

Gandini Juggling

They therefore, a year ahead or more, commissioned a number of British companies to make work. Companies like Gandini Juggling, who LIMF have supported steadily over the years, seeing them rise from small studios at BAC to the Royal Opera House and to Sadler’s Wells, who have co-commissioned the new work. Having toured the world with their homage to Pina Bausch, Smashed, the company now turn their attention to another giant of contemporary dance, Merce Cunningham. In LIFE A Love Letter to Merce Cunningham, Sean Gandini and company co-founder/director Kati Ylä-Hokkala have created an original piece of work firmly rooted in the Cunningham universe. The world premiere is on 12 January 2022 – the opening show for this year’s London International Mime Festival. 

Joseph describes Gandini Juggling as one of the ‘mature’ companies that LIMF are supporting, going on to note that another company edging up into that category is Barely Methodical Troupe, who are (like Gandini) a contemporary circus group who have been supported along their developmental path by LIMF. They bring a revival of KIN, to the Peacock Theatre for this year’s festival – a high octane whirl of acrobatic storytelling that playfully explores competitiveness and male-female dynamics.

Then, says Joe, there’s Theatre Re, who are another good-sized ensemble company whose work has been consistently programmed by LIMF. Their fourth show, Bluebelle, weaves together plots and characters from ancient folktales collected by Angela Carter, Italo Calvino, the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault; together with interviews with parents and carers. Staged in Theatre Re’s striking corporeal mime style of lyrical, visual theatre, and accompanied by live music, Bluebelle reminds us that life is shaped by the stories we tell and leave behind.

The PappyShow . Photo Helen Murray

Another world premiere, and also an ensemble piece that like Bluebelle is presented at Shoreditch Town Hall, is The PappyShow’s What Do You See?, a multidisciplinary performance weaving together words, song, movement, visual design and audiovisual effects, and asking us all to consider the question: When you look at someone, what do you see?

‘Director Kane Husbands didn’t just want to just make a show about Black identity, he wanted to address and celebrate all identities,’ says Helen. So, What Do You See? is created, under Kane’s direction, by a team of 12 performers, and a creative team of 27 people, representing a spectrum of intersectional identities in Britain today, including people of many different ethnicities and ages, with differently-abled bodies of all shapes and sizes – and celebrates all of those identities.

‘They are in the rehearsal room at the moment,’ says Helen, ‘and you can feel  the explosion of energy and the freshness of the work’.

Joe adds: ’Two years ago at the Purcell Room we presented their previous show, BOYS. It started as the audience were coming in, and the good feeling and energy that they exuded got the audience going before they had even started. There is an excitement about their onstage presence that appeals not only to young people but also to (ahem) not-so-young people like myself. We are very proud to be bringing that work to audiences. What Do You See? is a piece of theatre that is at least as much about atmosphere as about its sound message…’

‘When we were asked a long time ago if we could see any positives from Brexit, the only one that we could both see was that it might be good for British work… assuming we do get to present the work,’ says Helen.

Opposable Thumb: Big Boys Don’t Cry

On a smaller scale, other British companies who have been commissioned for this year’s festival include Opposable Thumb, who follow up their fabulous Coulrophobia with another two-man show, Big Boys Don’t Cry, presented at Jacksons Lane. Using potato crisps, puppets, dead bodies and Action Men, company co-founders/performers Adam and Dik take us into the beating heart of the modern male and attempt to answer the burning question: what maketh a man? Nature or nurture? Mind or body? Cheese ‘n’ Onion or Prawn Cocktail?

Then, there’s Jean-Daniel Broussé (one half of the award-winning circus duet Nikki & JD). He has been commissioned to make a new solo work, (Le) Pain – an autobiographical piece about his family of origin that will be seen at The Place as part of LIMF 2022. JD’s story is that he was born to inherit the French bakery run by four generations of his family. Instead, he studied history and literature, then ‘ran away to join the circus’, training at London’s National Centre for Circus Arts. In this, his first solo show, JD ‘travels through a universe of bread-making, physical heroics and growing up queer in strait-laced provincial France’. His collaborator and director on this project is the renowned Ursula Martinez.

‘We have ovens,’ says Helen, ‘he’ll be baking bread onstage!’

Jean-Daniel Broussé: (Le) Pain

The London International Mime Festival has, over the many decades of its existence, presented work at many different venues – but a consistent partner over many years is the Barbican. With a desire to commission/present some international work in 2022, and to also present a major British theatre company on a decent-sized stage, conversations with the Barbican started.

‘The Barbican were willing to take the risk along with us,’ says Helen, speaking of the decision that they would co-present Compagnie 111’s: aSH, a piece created by Aurélien Bory for Shantala Shivalingappa that is the final part of Bory’s trilogy of large-scale solos for female dancers. In aSH, Shantala Shivalingappa pays homage to Shiva, God of creation and destruction, taking the audience on a journey linking ancestral culture and innovative technology.

Vanishing Point (Scotland’s foremost artist-led independent theatre company) will also be seen on the main stage of the Barbican with Interiors, which is inspired by Nobel Prize winner Maurice Maeterlinck’s 1895 play, Interior. Director Matthew Lenton’s original, highly visual staging premiered in 2009 and has toured across Europe, Asia and South America. Interiors is about sounds, silence, the path of fate and the darkness outside the window.

Cie111 aSH by AurelienBory. Photo Aglae Bory.

Meanwhile, in the Barbican’s smaller space, The Pit, there will be two shows presented, one from the UK and one international work.

Thick & Tight return to London International Mime Festival at the Barbican with Short & Sweet, an amuse-bouche platter of nine new works designed to excite, provoke and satisfy. Created by company co-founders/co-directors Eleanor Perry and Daniel Hay-Gordon, this ‘thoroughly modern variety show’ mixes dance, drag, lip-syncing and satire, bringing a host of famous and infamous characters to life, from Sid Vicious to Twiggy, Grace Jones, Rasputin, and everyone’s favourite avant-garde duo, John Cage & Elaine Paige. Oh, and there are eight Edith Sitwells in the mix, too!

Also at The Pit: French company Stereoptik (Romain Bermond and Jean-Baptiste Maillet) are back with their latest handmade spectacle, Stellaire – a love story unfolding through space and time, set in a magic-lantern world. Using paper, chalk, charcoal, sand, silhouettes and projection, these virtuoso visual artists create wondrous cartoon-theatre that emerges before the audience’s eyes.

Stereoptik

Another crucial element of this year’s Festival continues from 2021: the commissioning of a series of five short films. Last year’s commissions were for UK artists – including Andrew Dawson, whose film, Joseph points out, has gone on to be shown at short film festivals worldwide. This year, the emphasis is on overseas artists. As Joe says, ‘this time we thought, given the problems of bringing in work from overseas, we’d preserve the ‘international’ element of the Festival through film commissions. We went to people whose work we know and like and asked them to create a short film between 3-10 minutes long that isn’t driven by spoken text’. 

‘The artists have a completely free hand to do what they like,’ says Helen, ‘and as things stand, we are as much in the dark as you are!’

The commissioned artists include Dewey Dell (Italy), an offshoot of the legendary Castelluci company, whose work features choreography, music and drama inspired and nourished by images from art history and the animal kingdom; and Hiroaki Umeda (Japan), a Tokyo-based choreographer, photographer and video artist creating mesmerising visual environments for his visceral live performances. As someone who uses video in his work, commissioning him to make a short film seems like a good move!

Then, there’s Delgado Fuchs (Switzerland), who Helen and Joseph first encountered at the Avignon Festival where they presented what Helen describes as a ‘happening in an art gallery’. Their body-based work involves dance, performance, installation, photography, video, fashion and fine arts, and fits no conventional categories.

Gabriela Muñoz

Gabriela Muñoz from Mexico is a clown best known for her portrayal of a woman desperate for companionship and marriage in Perhaps, Perhaps, Quizas, seen at LIMF 2018. Her Instagram feed is full of the most wonderful visual images – photographs that have been recently gathered into a book – so it will be very interesting to see her switch from still to moving image. 

Finally, Patrick Sims (France/USA) is the founder and former creative director of Buchinger’s Boot Marionettes, then creating his current company Les Antliaclastes, who have been seen at LIMF numerous times; making anarchic and eclectic work which uses a unique blend of different puppetry techniques and styles, together with masks, automata and other machines, and original organic soundtracks. He has a fine eye for detail, so this will be one to look out for. ’Expect something like a cross between the Brothers Quay and Jan Svankmajer,’ says Helen, ‘although, of course, he may surprise us with something completely different!’

‘We need also to mention Abel & Gordon, our film collaboration with the Barbican,’ says Joseph. Long-time friends of the festival, Belgium-based comedy duo Fiona Gordon and Dominique Abel present three of their early shorts. In Rosita (1997) the pair are a fortune teller and her assistant, working out of a dilapidated caravan; in Merci Cupidon (1994) attraction sparks between their two oddball singletons in a strange, out-of-the-way nightspot; and in Walking on the Wild Side (2004), an awkward misunderstanding occurs between a man and a cleaning-lady. Phenomenal physical performers, the duo is steeped in the grand French physical-comedy tradition of Jacques Tati and Pierre Étaix, who are also represented in the programme. 

Abel & Gordon: Merci Cupidon

There is also a further film element to the Festival with the showing of a programme of shorts by legendary puppeteer Heather Henson, and the presentation of a filmed piece called COLD, which Joseph says is ‘a gripping piece of work – really good film-making.’ 

Described as ‘a dark fairy tale about love, grief, madness and redemption’, COLD was created by acclaimed Lecoq-trained physical theatre-maker Claire Coaché, and her husband, the award-winning playwright and film-maker Lisle Turner. It is based on their own experiences of baby loss and first-person testimony from other grieving parents – giving a lie to the cliché that physical and visual theatre can’t deal with serious subjects, which Joe says is ‘a hoary old fallacy that we still live with, 40 years on’.

Both of the above will be screened online on mimelondon.com from 12 January.

COLD. Photo Kie Cummings

Workshops have always been an important part of the Mime Festival’s programme, and this year is no exception. Last year, the workshop programme went wholly online – allowing for a worldwide engagement. This year, the online element is maintained, including the instantly sold-out offering by legendary American clown Avner the Eccentric, and from closer to home, a mask workshop by Vamos Theatre.

In person, there will be numerous offerings, including the always-popular Angela de Castro. Then, there is The Brides project by David Glass, which Helen describes as ‘ a development workshop. Participants don’t pay, but apply to be part of the group,’ adding that ‘David is all over the place building bridges, making connections. I admire his tenacity!’

So there we are – the London International Mime Festival 2022, ready to launch! 

‘More by judgement than luck we’ve put together a festival that has a balance of new names and established artists, says Joseph. ‘a mature programme with exciting new departures. And film is now an important part of the programme…’

‘We just hope for the artists’ sake it can go ahead and audiences will turn up,’ adds Helen. ‘We have all our Covid protocols in place – and we are ready to jump, whichever way.’

As I write this article (post-Christmas) comes the good news that there will be no further lockdowns, and theatres can stay open. The London International Mime Festival post on social media that it is All Systems Go for the live shows.

Let’s leave the last word to Joseph: ‘We are very excited and confident about what we think is a great programme for what is now the country’s longest running annual international theatre festival – I’m as delighted to be doing it now as I was when it started.’

Vanishing Point: Interiors. Photo Niall Walker

Featured image (top): Theatre Re: Bluebelle. Photo Chris Nash.

Visit mimelondon.com for further information and bookings.

The five commissioned short films are hosted on mimelondon.com  and the Festival’s YouTube channel and are free-to-view from 12 January 2022.

London International Mime Festival is an Arts Council England National Portfolio Organisation.